


Rolling in the Deep

by ladywithalamp



Series: Thermocline [1]
Category: The Meg (2018)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 14:49:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18317468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladywithalamp/pseuds/ladywithalamp
Summary: In the aftermath of the megalodon attacks, the only thing that kept Jonas going was Mac. Before that, too if he was being honest. But...when was he ever? He and Mac have a history that stretches back for years and this is only a millisecond of it. A drop in the metaphorical ocean that is his life. So why does it feel like he'll drown in the wave that's come over his head without the other man by his side? Why does it feel like he's come home again, after years adrift, and can only see that now, when it's all over?





	Rolling in the Deep

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies!!
> 
> I just wanted to, first off, give a big thank you to everyone who reads this little beauty. I loved writing her and I hope you all enjoy it. Second, and most important, I wanted to say that while I adore Suyin and have actively watched the movie and read the fic here, I personally don't find the ship plausible. That being said, I don't dislike it. In fact, I love it. But I love these guys too, and I wanted to contribute to this awesome fandom with them. Because I know some might think otherwise, I just wanted to say: I am multishipper trash, and this is no exception ;) 
> 
> Please, let me know what you think and enjoy!

Jonas doesn’t realize how much he had relied on adrenaline to keep him going until there was nothing left anymore. There was no threat, as far as he and the surviving crew knew, so why couldn’t he turn his mind off? Why, when the sea was quiet beneath them and he would, normally, have been lulled to sleep could Jonas not close his eyes? Again and again he’d tried and all that had accomplished was replaying the events of the last few days over and over. He’d counted every ceiling tile and about a million bloody sheep and nothing, _nothing_ worked. 

It was why he found himself wandering, aimless, clenching and unclenching his fists as he walked through the ship. The man was restless and tired and he felt like he was going to jump out of his skin. Every sound, every creak of the boat as it swayed its way back into port, made him twitch. There was an itch crawling under his skin and Jonas wanted to scrub it away but _he couldn’t._ Every muscle ached, every body part was bruised and, yet, he still couldn’t calm his mind. Couldn’t stop the _thoughts,_ the realization that he and...and people that Jonas had cared about had almost died. That some of them _had._ It ran on a loop over and over and over aga-

“Jonas?” A door opened and the Brit focused in on the familiar, sleep-roughened voice, heavily accented in a way it wasn’t during the day. He felt the corner of his mouth tug upwards of its own accord. It was a helpless action, just as this entire endeavor had been. After the megalodon had been killed, Suyin and Meiying had taken up his focus. Jonas was relieved that they were alive, just as he was relieved that Jaxx and Lori were, that DJ was. He had made sure they were okay, especially that little girl. But Mac...fuck if _Mac_...if anything had happened to him while he’d been out playing hero...Jonas didn’t know if he’d be able to keep himself from eating a bullet. 

“I-sorry, ‘m...I dunno why-” he scrubbed a hand down his face, the calluses of his fingers catching on the few-days-old stubble that had sprouted in the wake of all this _bullshit._ He could feel the hangdog look clutching to his eyelids, sucking at his life force like it was a bloody parasite, but he couldn't stop the way he swayed on his feet. Jonas's tiredness tugged him forward, into Mac's space, so close they could breathe the same air. Mac just watched him, clutching onto the doorframe. Jonas stared back. 

After a moment of silence, broken only by their breathing, Mac sagged against the door and reached forward to tug Jonas in close by the front of his shirt. Jonas went, his body almost numb. The only thing that had kept him going until now was the image burned into the back of his eyelids, of _Mac._ Smiling at him from the boat, that familiar twist to his lip like a light shining the way home. Overlaid with that was the thought of him floating, lifeless. Half of his body eaten away. 

It made a shiver run down his spine just thinking about it. It was enough to make him clutch to the other man now, his hands finally deciding to move just as his feet had: any way they fucking wanted. 

And they wanted Mac. Wanted to make sure he was real. 

_“Mac,”_ he whispered, and there was more emotion in that one word than Jonas Taylor had expressed in the last twenty-four hours. One of his hands curled around the nape of the New Zealander's neck, the other opening and closing at his side, itching to touch but not knowing what to do, hovering over his ribs in a sort of limbo. His mate, his _best_ mate, looked at him from a mass of curls, eyes still sleep-heavy, and his brow twisted in confusion. Not quite understanding. 

“‘M _tired,_ Mac, so bloody tired,” he slurred, eyes heavy. The presence of the warm body in front of him made him press closer, head bowing into the curve of the other's neck. The other man grunted at the sudden weight but shifted, pressing back and redistributing his own body so they stayed upright. Normally, Jonas would be embarrassed. Normally, he would be apologizing and cursing at himself for what he was doing. But this...it was different. He and Mac had known one another for years. He had always been comfortable with the other man, but this? 

Even this was a bit much for him.

Still, the New Zealander seemed to be taking it all in stride, as well as anyone could be after being woken up at arse o'clock in the morning. He hadn't pulled away and, for that, Jonas was grateful. With his fingers still wrapped in Jonas's t-shirt, Mac led them further into his room, navigating the small space by the dim half light coming in through a window near the bed. Jonas followed him willingly, still too consumed by his own thoughts to do much of anything else. 

Both men fell back onto the bed, landing in a heap, a pile of arms and legs and torsos. If it were any other time Jonas would have probably laughed but, now, it was almost like his throat didn't remember how to make the sound. He and Mac had shared beds before, when there wasn't enough space, when there were limited rooms. But never just because. Not like this. This...Jonas's mind whispered that it was something else, something he shouldn't talk about in the daylight….Still, he allowed the younger man to tug him this way and that, rearranging their limbs until they were mostly comfortable in the too-small bed. 

The close proximity seemed to help, as though Mac had _known_ it would. Maybe he had. Maybe he remembered a similar time, five years ago, when he'd found Jonas near blackout drunk with tears in his eyes because _he couldn't save them, Mac, so what good was he?!_ Or, maybe, he was just as bad off as Jonas was. Maybe he was just barely holding it together, too. Either way, when they'd finally settled down into the mattress, Jonas had his arms wrapped around him and his face buried in his hair and he never, ever intended to let Mac go. The Kiwi was in a similar position, on his side, arms and legs wrapped around the other man, face pressed into his chest. Mac was asleep again in a few minutes, but Jonas...it took him just a second longer. 

When his eyes fully opened next, Jonas groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, shoving his head beneath a pillow. A single beam of sunlight had a vendetta against his eyes, and he wanted it gone. He burrowed further beneath the blankets, stretching out across the bed, seeking the warmth of the other body that...wait. Bed. _Body?_

Uncovering his head with the pillow, Jonas sat up on his elbows so fast it made his head spin, heart pounding in his chest. His eyes darted around the room, searching for it's other occupant in a panic. He found him leaning against the counter in a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, mug suspended in the air as he'd gone to take a sip, another curled around the handle of a second. Mac's eyebrows arched up into his hairline when they locked eyes, but Jonas had already begun to relax.

 _Fuck._ He'd thought-.  
Well. It didn't matter what he'd thought. 

“Forgot how much of a bed hog you were, mate.” Jonas looked at the other man with a scowl tugging at his face, ready to argue, but Mac had a smile crinkling up his eyes and, really, he couldn't begrudge him that. Not when Jonas couldn't quite remember how to do it yet, himself. So, instead, the Brit slid out from under the covers, braving the cold fucking floor, and stalked over to snag the mug from the New Zealander's hands. 

The one he'd been drinking out of, specifically, just to spite him. It was too bloody early for a human being to be awake, let alone look that cheerful. 

Jonas smirked into the edge of the cup as Mac cursed at him, glaring half-heartedly as he began fixing up the second cup he'd started for Jonas. He didn't make a move to retrieve it. It was a lost bloody cause at that point. Neither man drank their coffee any differently: milk, sugar. Black if they were in a pinch. Mac was just being sore about it. The glare being sent his way made Jonas feel lighter than he had in days, and the hint of what could have been a smile tugged at his face. Didn't quite make it there, but it was a start. 

It appeared to be enough for Mac, who smiled back, and leaned beside him against the countertop. 

Though there was sunlight, it still felt hellishly early. Jonas desperately wanted to go back to sleep, wanted to manhandle his friend until they were back under the covers and warm again. That was one of the things he'd lost during this whole thing, _warmth._ The water had stolen it, or maybe that bloody big shark had, but he wanted it back. Leaning against the counter next to Mac, pressed as close as he could get without smashing the man into the counter, Jonas thought that, maybe, he could. Mac wasn't complaining. In fact, he was pressing back, asking for contact in that silent way of his. 

Jonas must have been right. He'd lost something, too. 

There was a silence in the room that was peaceful, unbroken by anything except the quietness of their breathing and the gentle lapping of water against the boat's hull. Superstitiously checking the clock, Jonas groaned when he saw the time. _God,_ why did they have to wake up so bloody early? Mac laughed as Jonas grumbled about it, his face pressing into the other man's shoulder for a second before he pulled away altogether, an action he only allowed himself now because no one else was around to see it. 

Mac gives him a curious look, but says nothing. He's learned with Jonas: don't ask. Whatever he wants to know will either come in due time, or not at all. For his part, Jonas waved him off with a bit of a smirk. Motioning to the back of the suite he murmured, “gonna shower.” The New Zealander nodded, saying nothing, but Jonas could feel Mac's eyes following him as he walked away. 

The warmth of the shower spray did wonders on his aching muscles, was the first thought Jonas had. The second was that he probably shouldn't stay in here too long. Already, his heart was thudding at the sound of the too-loud water rushing in his ears. He turned the shower off a few minutes later, barely washing the soap away at all, a hand braced against the tiles as he tried to catch his breath. It took him a shamefully long time to calm himself down. 

Once he'd changed into the clothes Mac had left for him (without Jonas even realizing), the Brit made his way back out into the main living area, stopping suddenly when he heard voices. One, he recognized. The other he wasn't expecting. Sucking in a breath before releasing it, Jonas walked out with his shoulders back, drawing the attention of both Mac and Suyin. 

The Kiwi's eyes tracked his movements, scanned the clothing he wore, and Jonas shot him a small, grateful smile. The curl of Mac's lip and the nod he got in return was answer enough. Suyin watched him closely, sharp, dark eyes cataloguing everything in the room. The way he stood next to Mac, hunched over a bit as he leaned back into his friend's side, touching from shoulder to thigh in a way they hadn't on the Magna One. The clothing he'd been left to change into, an old worn sweater they'd been given and a change of pants. None of their own clothing had made it onboard so they'd made due. The woman's eyes widened a fraction and she made a noise, almost like shock, and both men turned to look at her fully. Jonas was confused, and he knew Mac was from the way his head had tilted sideways, the mess of curls on top of his head spilling over his ears and his forehead. Jonas had the sudden urge to fix them, and he tightened his grip on the edge of the counter to keep his hands still.

Running a hand through her hair, Suyin cleared her throat, gave both men a weak smile. “I see that my question has been answered. Thank you, James. I-I will see you both later.” And, then, the woman beat a hasty retreat, muttering to herself in Mandarin as the door closed behind her. The two men exchanged a glance, wondering what that had all been about. Jonas spoke a few minutes later to break the silence. 

“Shower still has hot water. Better use it before everyone else wakes up. Dunno what she was doin’ up this ruddy ear-” he was stopped by a quiet chuckle from the other man, and Jonas half turned from where he'd been resting against the countertop, stealing a drink from Mac's second cup of coffee, to look at his friend. Mac was shaking his head, running a hand through his hair. Jonas's eyes followed the movement before he forced himself to look at Mac's face. 

“She was lookin’ for you, mate. Asked if I'd seen ya, said you didn't answer when she'd come by last night to check on ya. Dunno what spooked her though.” He shrugged a shoulder then tossed a grin Jonas's way, rounding around the kitchen island and padding down the hallway. He called back over his shoulder with a wave of his hand as he began stripping out of his clothes. Jonas resolutely kept his eyes on the back of the man's head. “Don't worry your pretty little head about it, Taylor. ‘S too early for that shite.” 

Except that's exactly what he did. Right until Mac returned from his shower and they headed out to the main deck. It was time to go home. 

Just as he'd expected, Jonas had dreaded waking up that morning. He should have coaxed Mac back to bed, made sure he hadn't answered that door. Made someone come looking for them. They both needed it, the rest, and that was the excuse he'd have given, but now it feels hollow in his chest. The clamor of people at the docks the moment they'd made port made Jonas tense, tense in a way he hadn't been until he'd been visited by Mac and Dr. Zhang. It reminded him of what had happened the first time, five years ago, when he'd been hounded by the press for so long that, finally, he'd just gone into hiding. 

First it had been New Zealand. That was easy enough. He loved the country and Mac's family was still there. Jonas found work as a dive instructor, Mac with an institute. It had been good. And, then, the media found him there, too. So he'd ran, ran until he'd ended up where Mac found him all those years later. Of course, Mac knew where he was. Always had. But he'd known, too, that he needed to be left alone and the Kiwi had respected that. He'd called, from time to time, but never visited. 

The hug Jonas had given him when they'd seen one another again had been real. It had felt like coming home. 

Now, standing on the beaches of Sanya Bay with the rest of the survivors, Jonas wanted nothing more than to sink into the sand and never come back up. He was grinding his teeth to hide the anxiety that bubbled up in his stomach, hot and angry like acid. His nails were digging into his palms. He stared straight ahead, not seeing anything, until someone's hand pried his fingers loose from the grip he had on himself. Startled, Jonas looked down to see Suyin's little girl, Meiying, looking up at him. She'd slipped her hand into his, wanting something like comfort. He didn't know how to give it. Instead, Jonas quirked up a lip and gave her hand a squeeze before turning back to focus on the news reporters hurrying their way. One, a woman, was making her way towards him and his heart hammered in his chest. On his other side, Mac pressed himself close, a steadying hand at his back, voice a comforting murmur in his ear. 

Mac had been the only one to believe him, then. Not even Lori had, not really, and it had been part of the reason they hadn't worked. It had been amicable, and they were still friends, but Jonas still hadn't wanted to see her for weeks after it had happened. The only person he'd wanted was Mac. 

In a way, he knew that should have told him something. Instead, Jonas plastered on a fake smile and prepared himself to answer the same questions again, five years later. 

He ignored the feeling of Suyin's eyes as they burned into the side of his head

Four months later, Jonas was back in New Zealand. Somehow, he couldn't even be surprised. Besides Derbyshire, it was one of the only other places that had felt like home. His mum knew that and she took it in stride, choosing to come see him rather than forcing him on a long flight home, crammed into a plane with all those other people. Jonas was grateful for it. 

He'd carved out another life here, again, picked up where he'd left off. This time, however, he didn't throw himself back into the water. He held a degree in paleobiology and the local university had hired him on at Mac's word. He'd taken the man out to dinner as a thank you, ignored the curious looks from passer-by, and made himself enjoy the food he didn't really taste. 

They'd gone home and fallen asleep in a pile on the couch afterwards. His mum had woken them with her arrival, merely giving them both a knowing look as she wheeled her luggage through the front door. Jonas still thought about that look, about the way he and Mac hadn't even blinked at it. At the way, when Jonas had mentioned he wouldn't mind seeing New Zealand again, Mac had offered his place to stay. 

That had been months ago. 

Now, he was an instructor. Now, he and Mac hadn't spoken about his moving out in weeks. Mac was working at another research institution as the head of their marine biology department. He never got in the water, but his job didn't require it, not really. It worked out. Now, Suyin and her daughter were coming to visit and Jonas wasn't even anxious anymore. They were friends, had fallen into it somehow in the wake of the megalodon, but sometimes he caught her staring at him like he'd lied to her, like she was trying to figure him out and tear him apart all at once. It was a bit unnerving. 

He brought up the visit the night before they showed up. 

He'd had himself situated on the couch, legs propped up on the coffee table, grading. Mac was next to him on the other side of the sofa, reading, legs curled up underneath him, the soles of his feet pressed to Jonas's thigh. A footie match was on, but neither of them were watching. It was just background noise. After ticking off the last of many red flags on the paper, Jonas cleared his throat and glanced over at the other man. “Suyin and Meiying are coming over tomorrow. Called this afternoon to let us know their plane would be in ‘round two.” 

“I know,” Mac said easily, turning to the next page in his book, barely even looking up, “Suyin asked how you were. We had a nice chat. She said Meiying misses you.” That had made Jonas smile. He and the little girl had gotten on like a house on fire and, though he'd been here all this time, Meiying and her mother had set up frequent Skype calls to check in on the pair of them. It would be nice to see her, and her mother, though Jonas was still unsure about where they stood, or what he'd done to make it so unsteady.

His thoughts were interrupted by the man beside him. “Can hear ya thinkin’ from over here, mate. It'll be alright.” Mac looked up, then, and shot him a smile, and Jonas smiled back, relaxing back into the cushions. Mac returned to his book and Jonas his grading and that had been the end of things until the women showed up the next day. 

“Hey Crazy,” Meiying half-yelled in his ear. Jonas winced, and the two other adults behind him laughed. The nickname still bothered him, even after all this time, but she was small. She was only parroting what she had heard, what she'd been told. Jonas had been carrying her on his hip, holding her bags in his free hand and walking just ahead of Mac and her mother as they headed back to the car. The girl poked at his cheek, catching her finger in one of the dimples that had formed there. “You look happy.” Jonas looked at her, looked back at the pair behind him, and smiled. 

“That's because I am, Mei, that's because I am.” 

Later that night, Jonas almost wished he hadn’t said anything at all. Seated around the dinner table, the adults were chatting away, Meiying sitting quietly, chewing her food, when suddenly the little girl piped up from her side of the table. “Crazy, are you and Mac in love?” 

Jonas nearly choked on his drink, Suyin buried her face in her hands, and Mac, well, Mac just _stared._ The little girl looked at them all like they were stupid before heaving a sigh, clearly irritated that her question hadn't been answered the moment it had been asked. “Well?! Are you?” 

Jonas didn't know what to say. He was too busy trying to make sure he hadn't waterboarded himself with his beer and the other two adults in the room weren't much better. The “what” he forced out sounded strained, hoarse even to his own ears, and he could see Mac looking at him out of the corner of his eye. Meiying scoffed and repeated her question, slower this time because, clearly, he was stupid. Her mother scolded her, apologizing profusely, but neither man said anything to acknowledge her. Jonas could feel Mac staring at him, could feel Suyin watching them both, and it was starting to make his head throb. 

The eventual silence from the adults around the table meant that was the only answer the little girl was going to get. She glared at him for the rest of the night, at least until she was tucked into bed, pouting so much that Jonas had to laugh at it all when he places a kiss on the top of her head. But he never forgot the feeling of Mac's eyes on him as he sat there, staring at his plate, not knowing what to say. 

After the girls had gone to bed, while Jonas was making up the couch for himself, he still couldn't get the question out of his head. Were they? Had they been? Were they _still?_ It ran along like a broken record in his mind, echoing over and over on a loop until it made him almost sick with it. Mac noticed. He always noticed, and the concern was palpable. But the Kiwi said nothing. Jonas would talk, or he wouldn't. It was how things were. 

He spoke. Eventually. 

The Brit had been fiddling with the edge of the blanket he'd grabbed for the last ten minutes, staring into nothing, before finally turning towards the other man sat beside him in their living room. His face was confused, brow scrunched up and vulnerable, and his voice was quiet. Partially not to wake up the girls and partially because, well, he didn't know what the fuck he was doing. “Are we?” 

Mac made a noise at the back of his throat, pulling himself from his book, turning to look at him, confusion hanging around him like a cloud. Jonas waited a beat, clutching the blanket in his lap like it was a lifeline, waiting for it to sink in. He saw when it did, when Mac let out a breath and sagged back into the couch, eyes widening. He stared back at Jonas with something like disbelief on his face and the older man almost winced, almost rescinded his words, pulled away and said he was sorry. But Mac was looking at him and there was something in it that he hadn't ever really noticed before. 

Sadness. _Love._

“Yeah, mate...yeah I think...I think we are.” The words were quiet, so quiet that Jonas had to lean in to hear, and the movement made Mac's eyes hold his. Their thighs were pressed together now, so close that he couldn't breathe on his own even if he'd wanted, and Jonas felt that same itch in his fingers that he'd had all those months ago. It ached so badly that it was like a physical force, dragging him forward. 

This time, he let it. 

A hand curled around Mac’s ribs and dragged him close, tugged him into his lap and the other man _let him,_ sliding easily into place across his legs like they’d done this a thousand times before. Maybe, in another life, when they hadn’t been so bloody _idiotic,_ they had. Jonas’s heart hammered against his rib cage as he stared up at Mac, swallowing thickly around his tongue. He didn’t know what to say, couldn’t really find the words, but _fuck_ he wanted to do _something,_ say something...anything. Instead, Mac beat him to the punch, like he always did, the bastard. He’d seen the other man kiss someone before, of course he had, but being on the receiving end of it was like going up against a gale force wind, unmoveable, unstoppable, and like he never wanted to get away. Mac’s mouth crashed into his, their noses knocking together and teeth hitting harshly but, suddenly, it was all Jonas could do to keep himself from pulling the man closer still, soaking him in, swallowing him whole. The teeth attached to his bottom lip were on the good side of painful, dragging him under like Mac was a wave and Jonas was just along for the ride. He was breathing hard through his nose and, somehow, his free hand had curled its way into Mac’s hair, tugging and moving him until he had him at the angle Jonas wanted. 

Jonas licked into the seam of Mac’s mouth and he couldn’t tell which of them stifled a moan against the other’s tongue, but he knew it was his hips that had started to roll upwards, pressing insistently into the other man as the kiss intensified, becoming _more than_ in the blink of an eye. Mac moved along with him, like he always did, and it was almost too much, everything he’d always wanted and nothing he had thought he would ever experience before in the same breath. 

When they pulled away a few minutes later, their breathing was loud and Jonas could hardly see the color of Mac’s eyes anymore. There was something about that, _just that,_ that made him surge forward again. His arms came up like a cage around the New Zealander’s back and then Jonas was standing, their lips still connected, as he walked them back towards Mac’s bedroom. Jonas nipped at the exposed skin of Mac’s neck when he got him into the room, shoved his back against the door, nosed at the flesh just beneath his jaw. The other man groaned, arched his neck up and pressed his head back into the door behind him. Jonas could hear that Mac was keeping himself quiet. The girls were right next door but, honestly, Jonas didn’t really care. His teeth hooked into the skin just beneath Mac’s ear and Jonas smiled when he heard the hitch in the other man’s breathing, felt the way his thighs tightened like a vice around his hips. Jonas worried at the skin again and smirked when he kissed a trail down Mac’s chest and the man cursed at him. 

Mac had a fierce grip on his shoulder, fingertips digging into the meat of it with an intensity that made Jonas quiver. His mouth ran trails along his collarbone, shoving the thin material of his sleep shirt down with his chin, careful not to leave visible markings. No, those would be bitten into hip bones, the valleys of his ribs, the creases of his thighs. A fire had ignited under Jonas's skin, so hot he thought that if it was not quenched soon they would both go up like kindling. Pressing the smaller man more firmly into the door, Jonas adjusted the grip he had on him, a hand skimming feather-light touches against his back, tickling his ribs, and making Mac squirm against him. It was not about sex, now. No. It was about love, showing him that he was loved, that he, finally, understood. 

After all this time, Jonas could finally place the feeling that had brewed under his skin for years of looking at Mac and wondering what he would feel like. Of wondering how he would sound, the taste of him, the look on his face when they were curled close. Jonas wanted all of it and more. He wanted to swallow Mac whole, to burrow inside him. He never wanted to leave. Jonas stumbled backwards until his knees hit the bed and then he was laughing and the sound was joyful. Mac's pupils were blown wide and his lips were swollen but he was the most beautiful thing Jonas had ever seen.

When he was pushed onto his back, Jonas smiled.

It was like coming home.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the fic! Please leave comments or kudos below. Constructive criticism only, please. I will block anyone's comment that is hateful towards myself or others. Thank you again for reading, and I hope that my first fic on Archive was what you were looking for. 
> 
> Much love,  
> Sav


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